Displacement
by ArcaFeretory
Summary: Prompt: My roommate's boyfriend is staying over, can I sleep on your floor?


**I meant to have this up yesterday, but I got super _busy_ (also Agents of Shield was kinda emotional and I couldn't handle it). Plus it wasn't finished. But now it is so whatever. Pretend it's Wednesday for me. Pretend I posted before everyone watched the season finale. (Not that it would matter because I'm AU trash.)**

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She watched the door close. Somehow the not-quite-slam seemed unbelievably final. Clarke lifted a hand to knock, but then let it drop. She was too tired for this.

"No, that's okay, Octavia," she mumbled. "I'll just sleep out here. In the hall."

Resting her shoulders against the wall, Clarke slid down until her butt hit the cold floor. So this probably wasn't going to be very comfortable. But the alternative was listening to Lincoln and Octavia making a lot of noises she _really_ didn't need to know about.

At least she had a pillow. There was that. Leaning against the wall she closed her eyes, figuring that as tired as she was, she probably wouldn't have any trouble getting to sleep. Not even if she was sitting on the floor of the corridor.

But yeah, no, that's not what happened.

A door swung open and whoever stepped out clearly didn't see her there because they stepped on her goddamn ankle. Clarke lurched upright, eyes widening.

"Hey," she cried. "Watch it."

The perpetrator of the ankle abuse merely lifted an eyebrow. "Me, watch it?" she asked tartly. "I'm not the one lying on the floor of the hallway."

"Yeah well, I can't sleep in my room, can I?"

"Sure you can," the woman informed her flatly. "I'm positive your designated bed would be more comfortable."

Clarke's mouth twisted up into a wry smile. "Not very quiet though." As if to punctuate her point a sound from inside her apartment slipped into the hallway. She stuffed her pillow around her ears in an attempt to block it out. If it wasn't so frustrating, she'd probably be impressed with Lincoln's ability to get that pitch from Octavia's mouth, honestly. Instead she just groaned, slumping back against the wall. "See what I live with?"

The woman's face softened, obviously understanding the situation she was in.

"And I have an exam tomorrow," she grouched into her pillow. A thought occurred to her then, and in her sleep deprived state it seemed like such a grand idea at that. Clarke looked up at the woman, plastering a polite smile on her face. "Any chance I could borrow your couch?"

Her lips quirked slightly but her expression remained otherwise impassive. "That's a little unorthodox, don't you think?"

Clarke's face fell. "Please? I promise I won't touch anything. I'm just _so tired_." She sighed. "I'm Clarke, by the way."

Her head tilted to one side as if she were inspecting Clarke in the most minute detail. "Anya," she replied after a beat. A long moment passed and it was probably another muffled sound from Clarke's room that prompted more words from her. "I suppose if you behave you can have the couch." Anya pushed the door in for her as Clarke scrambled to her feet, beaming.

"Oh thank you so much," she breathed, eyes finding the sofa in the little room instantly. "Seriously, thank you."

Anya bobbed her head. "I'm going out this evening and my roommate will be back in about half an hour. I'll let her know you'll be here."

Clarke nodded happily. "Sure, yeah. I'll be passed out by then anyway. Thank you."

With another funny smile Anya closed the door, the lock clicking behind her. Clarke didn't care; she simply flopped onto the couch and sighed. She tucked her pillow under her head, wrapping her arms around it.

True to her word, within five minutes she was asleep.

But then some indeterminate time later a loud banging woke her. For a moment she blinked, ready to fire some choice expletives at Octavia. Only her surrounds were unfamiliar and the face of the girl glaring at her was _definitely_ not one she knew. Cute though.

"Anya said she'd brought a stray home," the girl grumbled. "I didn't know we were allowing pets on the furniture though."

Oh yes, that's right. She was crashing in the room across the hall. Right. This must be Anya's roommate. She didn't appear friendly.

"Clarke," she muttered, introducing herself. "Going to sleep now."

The girl huffed, folding her arms. Clarke had a sinking feeling she wasn't going to be much sleeping at all if her expression was anything to go by. She shrunk back into the sofa hoping that if it swallowed her she'd get to have a decent amount of rest.

"Why are you here?" she questioned.

Clarke heaved a deep breath. "Because my roommate's boyfriend came over tonight and they're making a godawful racket and I need to sleep so I'm fully functioning for my exam tomorrow," she exhaled. "No I'm not a serial killer; no I won't eat your food. All I want is to crash on your sofa. Anya said that was fine." She scrunched her eyes shut hoping that would make her go away.

The silence that followed stretched long enough that Clarke almost believed she was gone. "Fine." That word proved she was still there. Probably still eying her funny too. "But I need the television."

All Clarke could produce in answer to that was a throaty sound. Not really a word or anything, just a sound. She felt the girl collapse onto the floor, leaning back against the sofa by her knees. She considered opening her eyes, but decided sleep was more important.

"I'm Lexa."

She hummed a reply.

"Your roommate is very loud."

Clarke sighed. "Yeah…"

"I'm sorry you have to put up with that."

"She's not such a bad person." Her need to defend Octavia forced those words out before she could bite them back. She could feel Lexa's eyes on her but Clarke was determined to sleep so she kept her eyes shut and hugged her pillow a little tighter.

For a good length of time there was only the sound of the television as Lexa did whatever she was doing. Again, it didn't last. It was like the other girl was _trying_ to deprive her of sleep.

"Why don't you send them to his dorm?" she asked softly.

Clarke exhaled heavily, pinching her nose between her fingers. "Look, I really just want to sleep. Please?"

Finally she opened her eyes. Just in time to see a flicker of something flash across Lexa's face. Whatever it was left nothing but steel behind. "Apologies," she muttered deadpan. Her voice was… cold.

Lexa turned towards the television when she met Clarke's eyes, jaw tensing. Gently, Clarke bumped her knee against Lexa's shoulder. "Hey. I get grumpy when I'm tired. Sorry," she whispered. "Just frustrated and stressed and all that college goodness." She offered a smile when Lexa finally looked back at her. "If you want to chat, I'll buy you breakfast. And to thank you for the couch."

Her expression didn't change, not truly; it remained blank. But it was a carefully calculated blank and when the corners of Lexa's mouth twitched Clarke knew how hard she was trying to maintain that impassiveness.

In the end, Lexa bobbed her head infinitesimally. "Alright."

"Yeah," Clarke sighed, dropping her head back into the pillow. "You can tell me about whatever this is on the telly. Looks boring."

Through the crack her eyes were open; Clarke saw Lexa's face go pink. She still managed to say, "Sure." And it didn't sound forced or creaky at all.

Lexa turned the television off not even twenty minutes later but Clarke didn't comment. Nor did she say anything when all the lights went off except for the one – she presumed – by Lexa's bed. She did _almost_ speak when a blanket was draped over her though. Almost.

Instead she just smiled.


End file.
